


Ancient Winters

by gaslightgallows (hearts_blood)



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Origin Story, Backstory, Childbirth, Crossover, F/M, Magic, Poor Loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-30 23:50:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12663990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearts_blood/pseuds/gaslightgallows
Summary: "I will be a queen in Narnia, and I who have no fear of death need no heir to usurp me from my throne."A rumination upon the idea that the White Witch could be Loki’s biological mother.





	Ancient Winters

**Author's Note:**

> This is an odd one, even for me. It was written back in 2013, when _Only Lovers Left Alive_ came out, and for some reason, I’ve never posted it. Specifically references  “The Magician’s Nephew” by C.S. Lewis. 
> 
> If you’re on Tumblr, please consider following me at [gaslightgallows.tumblr.com](http://gaslightgallows.tumblr.com) for more fic, reblogs about writing, and lots of randomness.

The northlands of Narnia were cold, full of ice and emptiness, but Jadis was used to them both. There was power in the new world, fresh energy and old, deep magic, and although the lion had closed the doorway to Charn, Jadis found other doors open to her.

There were giants in the realms beyond the northern lands in those days, towering red-eyed creatures even taller than Jadis herself, whose scarred blue hides made her white skin stand out like frostbite. _Jotnar_ , they called themselves, and their king was Laufey.

His kingdom was as cold as the land of her exile, but unlike the northern mountains, Jotenheim was _alive_ , with people, with animals, with magic of a kind Jadis had never tasted before.

But like the world of the sons of Adam and daughters of Eve, like the world of mankind, the magic of Charn was not for Jotenheim, nor yet was Laufey's power destined for Jadis's command. The Casket of Ancient Winters would not sing for her, though its master could wield it on Earth to the ruination of all.

Still, they found other magics between them, to keep them occupied. Sometimes while she lay in Laufey's cold, solid embrace, it amused Jadis to imagine herself queen of Jotenheim at Laufey's side. It would never come to pass, that was understood. She would not submit herself to the rule of any, and Laufey would never stoop to take an alien creature to wife, though he was not above bringing one to his bed. There were many frost giants who took lovers from other realms; some even doted upon the children of such unions. 

When Jadis's belly began to swell, she told her lover that she would not be one of them. 

"I will be a queen in Narnia," she said, taking a stone knife from the king's table, "and I who have no fear of death need no heir to usurp me from my throne."

Laufey's red eyes glittered darkly. "So be it," he rasped, his voice low and harsh and full of dangers he would never unleash upon her. "But I will have use of a child in the future. And you may have need of allies one day."

Jadis reflected. That was wise council. 

So she stayed in Jotenheim. She bore the indignities of her pregnancy with indifference, and when she felt life stirring within her, thought only of the day when she could be rid of it. She felt no love for her child, but she felt no malice, either. She felt nothing. It was alien to her, its fledgling magic more of Jotenheim than of Charn. 

Her labor was a torment. The stone knife, which she had taken from Laufey's table and kept with her all the long months of her pregnancy, was used indiscriminately on the servants and midwives the king sent to her chamber. The babe would not come, as though it sensed its mother's determination to leave it and never set eyes on it again, and clung to her womb for as long as it was able, until finally Jadis cut the creature from her belly herself. 

It was small, bloody, and squalling shrilly, and in the midst of her pain Jadis's first instinct was not to put the babe to her breast but to fling it into the fire. Instead, she dropped it into the bed and gathered her strength, summoning the magic and saying the words to heal the jagged wound in her abdomen. Then she picked up her child. 

It was a boy. Smaller than Jadis would have expected of a child of Laufey's getting and her bearing, and to her surprise, pale like his mother. 

She had never once thought of her child as _her_ child, never thought it would look like her. Her breasts ached strangely for him. Yielding to impulse, she fed her son from her body, uncertain of what course to take. 

Laufey was unimpressed with her handiwork. "A sickly runt," he grunted, rolling the new infant back and forth in his great hands. Jadis noted that the boy's skin had changed color when touched by his Jotun father. Laufey noticed as well. "And confused," he added. 

"I do not want him," Jadis said again. 

"If you're certain," Laufey shrugged, and handed the boy off to a servant. "Expose him," he told the retainer shortly. "The quicker he freezes to death or the wolves get him, the better."

Such was the custom of the frost giants. 

Jadis returned to Narnia and to her studies of the world's magic. Time passed differently in Jotunheim, and she found the southern lands much changed in her absence. There were new kings and queens, new intrigues, new allies for Jadis to court, secretly and silently. And if she missed her dead son, or thought of him at all, it was only as one remembers a dream.


End file.
